


Pins and needles

by Lady_Monochromic



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Drabble, Friendship, Gen, Humour
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-30
Updated: 2015-03-30
Packaged: 2018-03-20 11:21:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 593
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3648426
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lady_Monochromic/pseuds/Lady_Monochromic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Drabbles: Bertholdt's legs are not working so early in the morning.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pins and needles

**Author's Note:**

> Cross post DECEMBER 2013

"Bertholdt," Reiner shook his friend’s shoulder, earning a glazed look as he woke. "The rest of the trainees are already in the showers."

Bertholdt gave a lazy nod apologising for fatigue. After Reiner jumped down from the bed, Bertholdt pushed himself up pulling his legs that felt oddly numb to the ladders. Only his left foot made it to the second step before he hissed and watched the room around him blur. All he could feel were prickled and sharp prods down his calf triggered by the tiniest pressure on his foot; soon his chest felt mildly bruised and his other leg was beginning to shoot the same sparks. He was definitely awake.

"You okay, Bert?" Bertholdt opened his eyes, further widening when he was only centimetres from familiar blue.

Bertholdt apologised pushing himself up but quickly hissed as the pins sparked attention down not one, but both of his legs. “Pins and needles.”

"I told you you need to sort that sleeping habit," Reiner looked at his friend’s long limbs with understanding. "Walk it off."

Bertholdt quickly shook his head defiantly. Reiner sighed; he gave up too easily. “I’ll help.”

Peeling the tall teen slowly off himself to lay him delicately on the wooden floor, Reiner made sure Bertholdt had as little pressure as possible on the backs of his calfs and heels. He knelt over him capturing his friend in locked eye contact.

It surely sent a rush of heat through his blood (although it wouldn’t be until after he would recognise it as the dominance of an animal on prey)

Without warning Reiner squeezed tanned feet ignoring the uncharacteristic hiss from his friend. “No don’t do that!” Bertholdt froze almost with tense paralysis. Following such exclamations, Reiner released his hold on the toe-curled feet; however, Bertholdt soon wished those hands were numbing him again when the pins crawled into the vacant place. When Bertholdt flinched Reiner squeezed again waiting for only a few moments (though Bertholdt felt he was travelling at a slower timeline than Reiner), guessing when he had numbed the feeling before releasing.

"Bertl, you sound like I’m torturing you," Reiner sighed as he squeezed once more feigning ignorance to the warmth of his hands and the cause of it from Bertholdt’s accumulating sweat. In attempt to ease his friend he stroked his thumb down the middle of his sole.

"I-I think it’s gone," Bertholdt’s brows were furrowed deeply, looking humorously as if he was collecting the salty liquid on his forehead.

"Sure," He released his hold and jumped up to lift his friend up too.

Slight wobbling made the blond grab his friend’s shoulders to steady him. “I’m go– actually no cramp!”

Reiner moved so quick it appeared he had fallen to his knees but the support he held on Bertholdt’s waist told otherwise. If not for Reiner, Bertholdt could not feel his right leg

"Which leg?" The response was only that of a shaky but hurried pat to twisted and strained pull he could feel inside him. Rather than squeezing the muscles Reiner kneaded his knuckles into the calf, twisting his arm round to do so. It was a mix of pain and easement when Reiner massaged the muscle, such actions that should not have made him as hot as he felt at that moment.

"Thanks," Bertholdt breathed and Reiner smiled back up at him, hand still holding his right leg.

"Um… what are you two doing?" The two looked at the door, with flushed faces; imagining the worst at how odd they must have appeared.


End file.
